


what do you do (after a bath)

by FlorentineQuill



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Accidental Sex Video, Adora Has A Praise Kink, Aftercare, Biting, Catra is a Good Dom, F/F, Grinding, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Post-Canon, Season/Series 05, Subspace, and i started writing this, and it went downhill from there really, and kink showed up unannounced, and my she-ra discord said "go on", and then smut knocked on my door, do NOT read this as BDSM/kink 101, have safe sane consensual sex kids, if i'm gonna break my (FIC POSTING) dry spell it might as well be with this, look i said "what if catra is SUPER fluffy after a bath", then pls do yourself a google, unless you think 50 Shades of Grey is "BDSM 101"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill
Summary: Adora wants to get some completely innocent footage of Catra fresh out the bath. Catra won't betoomad, right?Or: Adora tries to film Catra at maximum fluff capacity and then Catra tops the fuck outta Adora in (loving, consensual) revenge.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Melog (She-Ra)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 424





	1. 003bwentrptcamtype012test01catradora.magitchmov

The first five seconds of the video is of Adora’s face. She’s frowning in concentration as she fiddles with something and then grins. Any of the other princesses would be on instant alert at that grin. It’s wide and goofy and completely full of shit. “This is gonna be _great,_ ” she whispers to the camera and sniggers. “Ok, ok, cool it, Adora. Keep it— _snerkt_ — keep it together.” 

The next twenty seconds is the jumble and crackle of the camera being swung around and carried by someone who doesn’t really know or care how cameras should be handled for the best video footage. But to anyone familiar with Bright Moon, the camera is being carried through the halls reserved for relatives and close friends of the royal family. Adora’s hand comes briefly into view as she pushes open a door. She slows her walk and the camera catches the detritus of a life: Dirty clothes piled around a hamper, maps and papers scattered across a desk, a wide bed with disheveled sheets. (The tip of Melog’s tail can be seen poking out from under the blankets.) 

The camera trembles with silent laughter as Adora approaches a cracked door. Steam is wafting out. “I’m back,” she calls. In an undertone, she adds, “I’m going to die, she is going to murder me dead, but this will be _worth it_. Bow, you know what to do with this footage-video-stuff.” 

“Oh good,” comes Catra’s familiar drawl. “I’d hate to think you _actually_ died of boredom from yet another princess meeting.”

“…Meetings are important?” Adora offers after a moment. She doesn’t sound very convinced of the notion. She tries again. “Now that the war is over, the kingdoms can do. Things. Princess-y economic type things.” A hand comes into view, waving vaguely as if that’ll make the point stronger.

“Don’t strain yourself on my account,” Catra says. “See, this is why I’m glad I’m not a princess. All I have to worry about are 'reparations.'” Her voice is oddly muffled but still smug.

Adora pushes open the door. The camera is fogged over with steam for a long moment but Adora doesn’t move and the lens clears. Catra is standing in front of the counter, dressed in her underwear. (The camera starts shaking again.) Fresh out of the bath, Catra is….fluffy. Her normally sleek fur is ruffled and puffed out to twice its usual surface area. Her boxers and sports bra only emphasize the difference in appearance. Her tail looks like it got zapped by one of Entrapta’s robots and is lazily swinging from side to side. She’s toweling off her hair and doesn’t immediately notice Adora (or the camera). Adora lets out a high pitched giggle-snort. 

Catra eventually emerges from the depths of her towel. If her _fur_ is ruffled, her hair is….something else. Ruffled squared, at least. In the months since the defeat of Horde Prime it’s grown out to that awkward stage: It’s long enough to get in the way but too short to be properly pulled back. Right now it’s a riotous puff big enough to hide her ears entirely. Catra drops the towel and rakes her claws through her hair, grumbling. She pushes it out of her face and tries to condense it to something slightly less…voluminous. She finally turns to face Adora. “Hey,” she starts to say and then stops. Her tail stills. Her eyes are firmly fixed on the camera. 

The camera stops shaking. The gears are click-click-clicking away as Catra’s eyes slowly narrow. “Adora,” she says and her voice is eerily pleasant. “Is that a camera?”

“N-No?” Adora takes one step back towards the door. “Pfft, a camera, why would you even ask me that? What’s a camera?” There’s another second of tense silence and then Adora whirls around, already shrieking with laughter. She makes it _maybe_ all of two steps back out into the bedroom before there’s the unmistakable _thud_ of a full body tackle. 

The camera goes flying and bounces several times. It ends up pointed at the vaulted ceiling but the mic can pick up everything just fine. Adora’s still wheezing with laughter and it’s almost enough to cover the thumps and grunts of a quick scuffle. Catra lets out a cackle of triumph and Adora grunts again, her giggles finally subsiding. “I’m sorry,” she says and her shit-eating grin is audible. “You’re just so— so _fluffy_ right now.” 

“Really,” Catra says, deadpan. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Mmhmm. Looks so soft, I just wanna—“ Another, softer, grunt as if Adora tries to escape whatever hold Catra has her in. “Just wanna pet you.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Catra replies. “You’re not really in a position to be doing anything at the moment. Except maybe explain why the camera was a necessary addition.”

There a long moment of silence. “Troubleshooting?” Adora finally offers. “Bow and Entrapta are working on a new design. They needed someone to— get some. Footage. Of things. I had no advance knowledge that you’d be taking a bath.”

“Uh-huh.” Catra doesn’t sound wholly convinced. “And of course, you would _never_ think of contributing to Bow’s little binder of ‘Cute Catra Content’, would you?” 

“How do you know about— I mean, uh, what binder?” 

Catra chuckles. It’s not a particularly _nice_ chuckle. “Oh, Adora. Sweet, sweet, Adora. I have my sources. But that’s not the point now, is it?” 

“It’s not?” Adora squeaks. 

Catra sounds thoughtful. “No, I have my ways of getting back at Arrow Boy. But those can wait, I think. Not when I’ve caught the main culprit red-handed.” There’s the definite rustle of cloth on stone. “Hey, Adora,” Catra purrs.

There’s a soft thud as Adora’s head hits the ground. “Oh, that’s not fair,” she mumbles. There’s another shifting of cloth and Adora gasps like she’s been doused in ice water. “What— What kind of punishment. Did you have in mind?” All trace of amusement is gone from her voice, replaced with something oddly bright and yearning. 

“You said you wanted to pet me, right? I think I happen to like your hands. Right. Where. They. Are.” Catra’s voice drops a little more with each word.

Adora doesn’t respond beyond a slow, shuddering inhale. 

“ _Good_ girl,” Catra rasps, her voice little more than a rumble in her chest. “I bet I could stop pinning your wrists and you wouldn’t budge an inch. But you just look so _good_ like this, trapped and helpless underneath me.” Cloth drags against cloth, settling into a deliberate rhythm that leaves little to the imagination. Catra begins to purr deep in her throat, matching the slow pace she’s set. Every breath is audible in how her purring stutters but she doesn’t stop. 

Adora is panting in short order, little huffs and gasps barely audible over Catra's purrs. “C-Catra, please— _please—"_

“Shhshhshh,” Catra murmurs. “You’re doing _so_ well, being _such_ a good girl for me.” Her purring somehow manages to drop another octave, stutter-stopping as she speeds up a little with a grunt. “Holy shit, Adora,” she adds with a low groan. “How thick are your thighs? They’re the size of fucking tree trunks, I swear. And that ass— Just— so, so good. So perfect for me.”  They’re both panting now but Catra still manages to chuff out a laugh. 

Adora lets out a high pitched whine, wordlessly begging for _something_. Whatever Catra does makes Adora choke off mid-whine and heave in another gasping breath. 

“Mine, my girl, my good, good girl,” Catra growls, her voice oddly muffled. “Staying so still, so _good_ for me, not even trying to escape, you look so pretty with your neck bared, just _asking_ for a bite—“ She suits actions to words if Adora’s grunt is anything to go by. Catra’s purr is loud and deep enough to rattle windows for several seconds. When she lets go, there’s a wet _pop_ of broken suction and Catra hums, well pleased with her handiwork. “So pretty,” she croons again. 

“Yours,” Adora replies unsteadily. Underlying all of this is the steady rasp and rub of cloth against cloth, the muted smack of bodies moving against each other. 

Catra draws forth a few more gasps and whines from Adora before focusing on the rhythm of body against body. Punishment or no, Adora hits her peak first with a low, shuddery groan.  Before long it’s Catra’s turn to whine, a long low keening note that settles into silence. “Such a good girl,” she eventually mumbles. 

“’M _your_ good girl,” Adora says after a moment. Her voice is slurred and dreamy. “Right?”

Catra lets out a huff of laughter. “My best girl,” she says. An odd slide-thud of movement. “You can move now, you know.”

“Mmm,” Adora replies dazedly. “C’n I pet you now?” 

“You’re such an idiot. Yes, you can touch me. Here, don’t strain your shoulders any more than they have been—”

Whatever response Adora gives is drowned out by a sudden burst of snuffling. 

Melog’s muzzle blocks the lens as the Krytisan inspects the camera, grumbling to themself. After a few seconds, Melog daintily picks up the camera. There’s a flash of red and cinnamon as the camera slides around but Melog is already turning away with a snort. They trot over to the door and slip out into the corridor, still grumbling under their breath. The next several minutes is nothing but the quiet padding of paws on stone as Melog makes their way through the halls of Bright Moon. They’re passing through one of the gardens when a familiar voice makes them stop.

“Well now _there’s_ an odd sight,” Double Trouble drawls. “You’re usually glued to Kitten’s side.”

Melog doesn’t reply, their fur rippling from blue to red for a moment. Double Trouble comes into view and blinks down at the camera. 

“Now, what do you have there?” Double Trouble reaches down and pull the camera out of Melog’s mouth. “Is that a camera? Oooh, lucky me. I’ve been dying to get my hands on one, it makes practicing a part _so_ much easier.“ Double Trouble frowns down at the camera for a moment, turning it over in clever fingers. “Ah, there’s the stop button,” they murmur. “Now, let’s see what have you been recording, hmm?”

The video ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double Trouble eventually hands the camera over to Bow. They get their own camera after careful negotiations about what Adora managed to record. They saunter off (why are they even at Bright Moon? Who knows!) with a casual warning of "You might want to stop after the first couple of minutes. I imagine there are some things a man doesn't need to know about his-- what do you call them? Best friend squad." 
> 
> (2 minutes is definitely 10-15 seconds too long. Bow now has Some Regrets.)


	2. what do you do (after a bath) REDUX now with VISUALS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 except now you get to see what was happening "off-screen."

Catra hears Adora enter their shared room but is a little distracted. Baths are a necessary evil; albeit a much more tolerable one than the cold showers that the Horde offered. Bath or shower, she always seems to get water in one or both of her ears. It is a _nightmare_ to get it out without magic.

“I’m back,” Adora calls and Catra can hear her making her way over to the bathroom door. She mumbles something under her breath but Catra can’t hear it as she flicks one ear hard to rid of the last bit of water and starts toweling off her hair.

“Oh good,” Catra replies. “I’d hate to think you _actually_ died of boredom from yet another princess meeting.”

“….Meetings are important?” Adora says. She says it doubtfully, like it’s something she heard someone else say once. Catra snickers to herself as Adora continues, “Now that the war is over, the kingdoms can do. Things. Princess-y economic type things.”

“Don’t strain yourself on my account,” Catra says. “See, this is why I’m glad I’m not a princess. All I have to worry about are 'reparations.'” And since everyone on this planet is all too happy to holds hands and sing She-Ra’s praises, her reparations come in the form of “community service.” Each kingdom gets to boss her around for at least a year. (Though she heard that Mermista wants at least five. Which is, y’know, fair, all things considered. Salineas was…honestly, pretty trashed.) From the doorway, Adora lets out poorly smothered giggle-snort.

Hair dry, Catra drops the towel and scowls at her reflection. Her hair and fur are always _ridiculous_ after a bath. Toweling down only does so much and in her hair’s case, makes it worse. She ignores her girlfriend’s amusement and rakes her claws through the worst of her hair, pushing it out of her face. According to Entrapta’s calculations, it might be long enough to actually pull back into a ponytail by next month. Catra may or may have the date marked on a calendar. Hair tamed (for the moment), she turns to face Adora. “Hey,” she says and then stops.

Adora is holding something. It’s smaller than Bow’s tracker pad, hardly bigger than Adora’s palm. There’s a suspicious looking little circle of black glass in one corner of the device. And Adora is shaking with silent laughter, turning bright red. Catra narrows her eyes. “Adora,” she says, voice pleasant and smooth. Calm in a way that’s taken her months of working with Melog to perfect. “Is that a camera?” Her tail is perfectly still, ready to counterbalance any sudden movements Catra might be considering.

“N-no?” Adora takes a step back towards the door. Catra’s hindbrain perks up at this oddly prey-like behavior but Catra doesn’t move. Not yet. “Pfft, a camera, why would you even ask me that? What’s a camera?”

Catra has to stop and admire how _bad_ of a liar her girlfriend is. It’s astonishing that the Princess Alliance managed any sort of subterfuge, ever. Adora takes the opportunity to turn and flee, laughing madly. Before she can make it more than two steps, Catra has coiled and leapt. The totally-a-camera goes flying out of Adora’s hand but Catra has better things to worry about. She knocks Adora down to the ground with zero regret. Adora scrambles, still laughing, to try and get free. Catra quickly snags one leg around Adora’s. Leg trapped, Adora tries to push up with her ridiculous upper body strength but it’s child’s play (well, a child soldier’s play) to grab first one arm and then the other in a basic hammerlock.

It's Catra turn to cackle as Adora grunts against the strain in her shoulders. She takes the opportunity to resettle herself across Adora’s thighs, firmly in control of the situation. At least Adora’s not giggling now.

“I’m sorry,” her girlfriend says, craning her neck to look back at her. Her grin is still completely full of shit and unrepentant. “You’re just so— so _fluffy_ right now.”

“Really,” Catra says, raising one eyebrow. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Adora nods, oblivious. “Mmhmm. Looks so soft, I just wanna—“ she tests Catra’s grip but freezes at the prickle of Catra’s claws around her wrists. “Just wanna pet you,” she finishes, breathing a little more quickly than the situation warrants.

_Interesting_. Catra takes a slow, deep breath and oh, yes, Adora is definitely a little turned on by their current positions. “Ah, ah, ah,” she murmurs. She takes the opportunity to shift Adora’s hands ever-so-slightly higher so that they’re pinned between her shoulder blades. “You’re not really in a position to be doing anything at the moment. Except maybe explain why the camera was a necessary addition.”

Adora’s eyes are wide and Catra can _see_ her pupils dilating. The tang of arousal is getting thicker. Catra shifts her weight and raises her eyebrows in a silent question. If Adora wants loose, Catra doubts she could actually keep the blonde pinned for long.

Adora swallows, her throat clicking with sudden dryness. “Troubleshooting?” she finally offers. “Bow and Entrapta are working on a new design. They needed someone to— get some. Footage. Of things. I had no advance knowledge that you would be taking a bath,” she finishes, falling back into formal report language. She gives the barest of nods and some of the tension drains from her muscles.

“Uh-huh.” Catra responds. She crosses Adora’s wrists a little closer together so that she can keep them pinned with one hand. “And of course, you would _never_ think of contributing to Bow’s little binder of ‘Cute Catra Content’, would you?”

Adora jerks underneath her, caught out. “How do you know about— I mean, uh, what binder?”

Catra chuckles. “Oh, Adora.” She reaches forward and splays one hand under Adora’s jaw, forcing her head back and up. She can feel Adora’s pulse thudding against her fingers. “Sweet, sweet, Adora. I have my sources.” Namely, Entrapta, who has access to all of the Alliance’s files (whether they want her to or not). She lets her claws _just_ rest against the thin skin of Adora’s neck. “But that’s not the point now, is it?”

“It’s not?” Adora squeaks. Catra can see her starting to flush. Can feel it too, under the pads of her fingers.

Catra shifts her weight, considering her options. “No, I have my ways of getting back at Arrow Boy. But those can wait, I think. Not when I’ve caught the main culprit red-handed.” Catra nudges one leg between Adora’s, straddling one massive thigh. She forces her knee up as Adora’s hips twitch _down_ , looking for more contact. “Hey, Adora,” Catra purrs.

Adora’s head drops towards to the ground and Catra lets her. Her forehead hits stone with a _thud_. “Oh, that’s not fair,” she mumbles.

Catra tightens her own legs around Adora’s thigh and leans forward, enough to get her hand back around Adora’s jaw. Adora gasps and raises her _whole damn torso_ up off the ground, quivering under Catra’s touch. “What— What kind of punishment. Did you have in mind?”

It’s Catra’s turn to swallow. They’ve figured out a few things about what they both like in bed. Netossa and Spinnerella had a whole little library of books on the topic. Still, it’s a heady rush every time Adora (Miss “I can pin you to a _wall,_ no She-Ra required”) yields to Catra’s control. “You said you wanted to pet me, right?” she says. She releases Adora’s jaw to pin her wrists down with both hands. “I think I happen to like your hands. Right. Where. They. Are.” Catra lets her voice drop and presses down with slow, steady, pressure. She doesn’t let up until Adora gives another short little nod and breathes in a slow, shuddering breath.

“ _Good_ girl,” Catra rasps. Her lungs are already tickling with the urge to purr. “I bet I could stop pinning your wrists and you wouldn’t budge an inch. But you just look so _good_ like this, trapped and helpless underneath me.” Catra draws her knee back, giving herself the best leverage and coincidentally, taking away pressure from Adora’s clit. (This _was_ a punishment ostensibly.) She starts rocking back and forth, grinding down on Adora’s thigh in a steady rhythm. Catra lets her eyes fall half-shut as she starts purring in earnest, guttural and throaty. She honestly has no idea how she can still breathe and purr at the same time but really? It doesn’t matter.

She keeps one hand loosely pressed against Adora’s wrists and tangles the fingers of her other hand in Adora’s oh-so-convenient ponytail, tugging back every so often just to see her twitch her shoulders off the floor. Adora moves easily under her, hips jerking in a vain attempt for _more_. Catra see the sweat starting to glisten at Adora’s collar, still fully dressed after a day of meetings. She’s panting now, flushed and perfect under Catra’s steady grip. “C-Catra, please— _please—"_ she huffs, shuddering.

“Shhshhshh,” Catra murmurs, releasing Adora’s hair. Adora turns her head so that she can fix Catra with one hazy blue eye. “You’re doing _so_ well, being _such_ a good girl for me.” Her purr drops so low it bottoms out, stutter-stopping at the look in Adora’s eye. Catra slides her knee back up, feels the damp warmth of Adora even through two layers of clothing and her own fur. “Holy shit, Adora,” she groans. Her tail shudders from base to tip as she rocks a little harder, pressing her clit up against Adora’s rock-solid thighs. “How thick are your thighs? They’re the size of fucking tree trunks, I swear. And that ass—“ She shifts forward so that said ass can grind against her clit, sweet and soft and roughened _just_ enough by her own underwear. “Just— so, so good. So perfect for me.”

Her purring is nowhere to be found as they both pant. All Catra can smell by now is her arousal and Adora's, layered on top of the scent of _home_ and _mate._ She has to concentrate to keep from straight up drooling over the heady mix. At this rate, she's gonna need another bath and she chuffs at the thought. Underneath her, Adora tips her head back and _whines_ , wordlessly begging for more. Catra sits up more fully, leans forward to set her teeth against the meat of Adora’s shoulder muscle, shirt be damned. At the same time, her free hand finds Adora’s jaw again, claws fully extended this time.

Adora chokes off mid-whine and heaves in a gasping breath, pulse hammering. Catra minds her grip, not restricting Adora’s air. Her own hips jerk convulsively, missing the deep, rolling pressure of the past few minutes. “Mine,” Catra growls, panting into Adora’s neck. “My girl, my good, good girl.” She settles back against Adora’s ass, keeping Adora’s head and shoulders forced back and up. She’s _just now_ starting to tremble with the effort, damn her oversized muscles. “Staying so still, so _good_ for me, not even trying to escape, look so pretty with your neck bared, just _asking_ for a bite—“ She turns her head towards said neck and clamps down _hard_ , hard enough to break skin.

_Minemineminemymatemineminemine_ , her hindbrain is jabbering and Catra closes her eyes and _purrs_ , feeling her ribcage rumble against Adora’s back. Adora grunts but doesn’t try to move away. Catra resists the urge to bite down even harder and pulls back with a wet _pop_. Blood wells from the bite, mixing with Catra's saliva and soaking into Adora’s shirt. Catra licks it clean, covering Adora in more of her scent. She hums, well pleased. “So pretty,” she croons, trying to remember where they were at.

“Yours,” Adora replies, her voice cracked. Her ass twitches under Catra and Catra reflexively grinds back down.

She blinks down at where her hand still rests on Adora’s wrists. She shifts back so that she can really drive up with her knee, lets Adora get her hips off the ground with the effort. Every flex of Adora’s flank presses up against Catra’s clit, she can feel every inch of contact and cants her own hips forward, bearing Adora back down to the ground with ease. She releases her hold on Adora’s wrists, just to see what happens.

Adora gasps and her arms slip down, just a little, but her fingers are clamped down around her own wrists. Still obeying Catra’s rule of _not touching_. Catra takes the opportunity to set both hands at the top of Adora’s shoulder blades with just enough pressure to prick her claws through cloth to skin. Adora shudders and whines under her, heaving her upper body back up to press against Catra’s claws. Catra’s heart feels like it’s gonna crack in two at the utter trust Adora shows her in moments like these. She pulls her claws away and wraps a hand in Adora’s hair again. She barely has to press forward before Adora sinks back down, going limp under Catra’s touch.

Adora’s shirt is wet with sweat around the collar and cuffs, sticking to her back as she pants. Catra shoves at it, rucking it up under Adora’s chest. (That was the only disadvantage with this position, part of her mourned. No access to her girlfriend’s magnificent, ever-so-sensitive _tits_.) She gently trails her claws across Adora’s lower back, relishing in the noises she can wring out of Adora with just the tips of her claws. She draws meaningless patterns with the occasional scratch, still grinding down. 

Something— Catra’s not even sure what— tips Adora over the edge, past the breaking point. Her thighs clamp down Catra’s leg and she lets out a low groan as her whole buddy shudders with pleasure. Catra lets her ride it out, not even mad that Adora came before her.

After a minute, Adora shifts under her, spreading her legs wider. The slight variation in pressure sends a frisson of pleasure running up and down Catra’s spine. Her tail lashes the air and she hunkers down, pressing her belly to Adora’s back and really lets herself _rut_ against Adora’s thigh. She worms a hand Adora’s other leg, encourages it up and behind her, adding even more pressure and— Catra lets out a low keening whine as her own orgasm ripples through her, making her shudder and shake against Adora’s back. “Such a good girl,” she mumbles after she can form words again. Her tail is looped around one of Adora’s ankles, curling and uncurling.

“‘M _your_ good girl,” Adora replies after a moment. Her voice is slurred and dreamy, not all there. “Right?”

Catra lets out a huff of laughter. Only Adora would do everything Catra asked for and more and still want the reassurance. “My best girl,” she confirms and rolls off to one side. “You can move now, you know,” she adds.

“Mmm,” Adora says and turns her head just enough to look at Catra. Her eyes are _definitely_ still not quite focusing. “C’n I pet you now?”

“You’re such an idiot,” Catra says, smiling. _A deep-in-subspace idiot. Damn, she dropped hard_. “Yes, I suppose you can touch me.” Catra sits up and carefully unpeels Adora’s fingers from her own wrists. “Here, don’t strain your shoulders any more than they have been—“

There’s a whisper of movement behind them and Catra flickers an ear back to catch Melog’s disgruntled murmur of _silly hormone-addled mates_ as they left the room. She turns her attention back to Adora, coaxing her wrists and elbows to relax, moving her arms down by her sides. Adora lets her, eyes half-closed. It only takes Catra another minute to convince Adora to roll onto her back and to ditch her shirt entirely.

“This uh, might be a little late, all things considered,” Catra says, tilting her head as she considers the merits of licking Adora's glistening collarbones. “But, color?”

Adora blinks for a moment, the word slowly working its way into her mind. She licks her lips and smiles up at Catra.One hand comes up to gently paw at the sweat-dampened fur of Catra’s stomach. “Kitty belly soft,” she carefully enunciates. “Green,” she adds after a moment, eyes sliding back to half-mast.

Catra has to roll her eyes. “Yeah, you’re so far under I’d need a fucking submarine to get you out,” she says. She grabs Adora’s free hand and starts massaging it from fingertips to shoulder to get the blood flow going. She’s finished one arm and has scooted around to work on the other when Adora sucks in a deeper breath and her eyes open. This time they can actually focus on Catra.

“Heeeeey, Catra,” she drawls.

“Heeeeey, Adora,” Catra parrots back. “You actually back on this planet now?”

Adora arches in a full body stretch with a wince. “Yup.” She smiles at Catra like the utter dope she is post-orgasm. 

“Here, budge up,” Catra says. It takes a minute or three but she manages to get Adora sitting up right, curled up against Catra’s chest. She hasn’t stopped petting whichever part of Catra is most convenient. Then again, she let Catra scent mark her jaw and shoulders (with a pit stop to wash the bite again and, ok, _maybe_ the rest of her neck and collarbones too since she's in the neighborhood) so they’re even, all things considered.

“I’ll have to film you after baths more often if this is how you respond,” Adora eventually says.

Catra’s head snaps around to look at their bedroom floor. She remembered the camera flying off in _that_ direction but—

“Adora. _Where’s the camera_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kiddos, practice safe sex! (Which technically the biting and the licking were not but shhhh.) Adora and Catra survived _several_ awkward conversations from Bow and Glimmer, Castaspella, Micah, and finally from their guardian Gay Moms, Netossa and Spinnerella. Netossa and Spinnerella are the ones who actually managed to break down kink for these two disaster baby lesbians and are very happy to loan out appropriate reference material.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. That happened. ~~At least it's not the Castaspella/Shadow Weaver hate sex I apparently have to write.~~
> 
> I spent the weekend of May 15-18 in a state of euphoric fandom bliss (and at least 3 season 5 rewatches) and joined a She-Ra server. This is All Their Fault.
> 
> Infinite thanks to Noelle Stevenson and the cast/crew of She-Ra for Doing That. Many thanks to starbit and bemusedlybespectacled for the quick smut beta as I worried if you could tell what was going on "off-screen" for Chapter 1. No thanks to myself for going "Well obviously there needs to be a Chapter 2 where you can "see" what's going on." 
> 
> (My dear Maleficent readers, I'm so sorry, I promise I'll post again some day.)


End file.
